Coming Home
by Vampire Reader
Summary: Based on BECOMING, starring Radu, patriarch of the Moonlight vampires. After much searching Radu has found the incarnation of his brother's soul in ancient Greece. Now that he has him, can he keep him safe from those lusty Olympians?
1. Chapter 1

6

Coming Home/Spinka

Coming Home

Penina Keen Spinka

Chapter 1

In the saying goes, you can never go home again because either it has changed too much or you have. I had been far from home for thirteen years and had to agree. I had changed, several times over. The circumstances of my several changes have been told in another of my memoirs. This story speaks of when I returned home with a special friend. I call Timotheos my friend, but he and I had once been twin brothers. We would have different kinds of relationships in the future, but that night, when I found him on the western slope of Mount Olympus guarding his sheep while they slept, and playing a melody on his syrinx, he did not know what we had once been to each other.

I had seen syrinxes before, but never heard one played so well. Today, they would call it a shepherd pipe or a panpipe. Picture hollow reeds laid shortest to longest in a line and tied together by flat reeds or sinew. I listened to him play for a while and then begged leave to try it myself. I played him a melody he had taught me in his previous life. To my joy, it sounded familiar to him. He might even remember me after a while.

To Timotheos, I was a bearded stranger - a man of near thirty years to his twelve. That he had lived twelve years was more my figuring than his since my brother died thirteen years before. Villagers in the land we call ancient Greece today didn't notice such things as the passage of years except as it related to seasons and growth. The days before the oldest graybeard among them could recall was 'time out of mind.' It was enough knowledge for the lives they lived.

The changing seasons told farmers when to plant and harvest. Short, cooler days told shepherds to gather in the sheep before the snows. Too little stored fodder told them when to cull their herds. Longer days and new leaves said it was time for shearing. They drank ewe milk and wore sheepskins. They were simple folk, these villagers. I had seen their type before. Drop spindles and looms were new to them.

Timotheos' family lived in a village in the northeast part of the land of Achaea as Greece was known, near the border between Thessaly and Macedonia. The Mount was regarded as the home of the Olympian gods. On my travels through Achaea, I'd heard of their exploits. It was said these gods often changed form, sometimes to impregnate maidens or to amuse themselves with war games that left countries and families devastated.

Ares, my old friend and blood relative, thought himself a god as I had before my travels. We had learned the language of Achaea together and heard of this Mount Olympus. Humans were not permitted to the heights of the mountain, but our hosts did not know what we were. Ares was sure the restriction could not apply to him. Although he was far older than I and therefore stronger, I hoped he would survive his curiosity.

Personally, I had no such ambitions. If the Sun god truly lived on the mountain when the day was through, I could not imagine his palace ever being dark. As a creature of night, I could barely tolerate sunlight. Time would not change my aspect, but my strength and tolerance were supposed to grow. Ares could withstand daylight, but I feared it and emerged from caves or underground only when the sun had slipped behind Earth's rim.

As the youngest in a family of shepherds, it was Timotheos' job to help guard his village's flocks. His parents had not expected a fifth son, so when he was born they named him to honor the gods. It seemed to Timotheos he would always serve his older brothers. Once his beard grew, he was expected to find and wed a suitable maiden and thereby begin the process of fathering more shepherds as his father had. He told me he hoped to become proficient on his instrument so he might leave his village and see some of the world. He might entertain for his supper in great houses, those of chieftains and kings, and in temples. He might even become a priest himself, but he had not yet decided on his favorite god.

Grateful for my company and interest, he had freely shared his hopes and dreams. I had to be more circumspect. I told him my name was Radu and that my homeland in a far country north of Thrace, a country he knew of only in fable. It was called Hyperborea which in their tongue meant it was beyond the North Wind. Timotheos was as curious in this life as he was in his last. His eyes lit with excitement as he asked. "Is it true people there do nothing there but dance and sing? That's what the ballads say. They must be happy all the time. How could you have left them?"

I smiled at his innocence. "No country is happy all of the time. There was a great war and many of my people died. Our two greatest gods died, but before they did, they created new gods to avenge the dead and care for the survivors." What I said was true enough. What I did not say is that I was one of those new gods. "It is true though, that when we have finished our work for the day, that we do like music. A fine musician such as you would be honored." When he was my brother, he was one of our best musicians and our king, but I was not about to tell him that, at least not yet.

"I would love to bring you home with me. His vital signs rate quickened as he thought over my suggestion. "As far as playing for your supper, learn to play the lyre. Thracians invented them, but I've seen them in great houses here. You play with your fingers and you can sing while you play."

"Like Apollo?" he asked.

Timotheos picked up on my confusion. "When he's not carrying the sun across the sky, the traveling bards say he plays the lyre and sings for the other gods."

"Then I suppose so. Let me hear you sing." To my night vision, his face was as beautiful, lit softly by the stars and moon, but I thought his voice could charm birds from the trees. I had been told my sire was a moon god. In a distant land, I discovered that I was not a god at all. My kind had been created to protect our people. I had not been doing much of that while I explored new lands and gods and ideas, but I met a wise man, a master of shepherds in an Eastern land. He taught me that the earth has one real God and that I must use my gifts wisely.

Timotheos sang a simple song about a shepherd's life, of hills and trees and lakes trembling under winter winds. The song ended with the shepherd going home to a warm supper. It reminded me of my own childhood when I was human. The memory of those days as well as his song brought tears to my eyes.

I smelled the dawn's approach and knew I must hide from it, but I said I hoped I would see him again. He replied he would be here again tomorrow night. He also asked if I cared to go the shepherd's hut when the other boys came to take over his duties. "You are a stranger. Do you have a place to stay?"

"I do. I wish I could stay longer with you, but I have a problem with daylight. I cannot walk in it."

He met my eyes, cocked his head and looked into my soul. The youth's attention compelled me to say more. "I'm very strong and see better than most at night. The night gives me my strength, and blood." I lowered my voice at the last word. I had already said more than was prudent.

He did not blink at my revelation, but seemed to think over what I had said. "Are you like the new god Ares who came to our land from Thrace when I was little? He told the people he was a war god."

I nearly laughed that he knew of Ares. "I'm not a war god, but yes. I am like Ares. He is my uncle. We came to Achaea together."

Timotheos' mouth twisted as he took this in. So much for my good intentions, I thought. Instead of retreating in fear and awe, he smiled. "Ares took Aphrodite for his mistress. Her husband was angry and demanded justice, but the other gods laughed at him." I wondered how he knew. The lad seemed to hear my thoughts and winked. "Everyone loves gossip, and his priests brag of his conquests."

I should not have been surprised at Ares' success here or his boldness. Nothing frightened him, not even Apollo. Were the sun god and I in the same room, I would have been hiding under the bed. That reminded me. "The sun will rise shortly and I must go where it is dark."

"Tomorrow night, then?" he asked. "Will you come and find me?" He wanted to see me again. If my heart was like a human's it would have beaten faster.

"I can teach you more songs. I'm on the last part of my journey. If your parents give permission and you don't mind traveling at night, you can come home with me."

"I think I would like that. I already watch sheep all night and sleep in the daytime," he said with a friendly a grin. How different he was from a lad of my people who would have given me reverence, distance and blood, had I asked. I touched his cheek with my cool hand and wished him a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

14

Coming Home/Spinka

Chapter 2

The cave I chose for my shelter was not far from the meadow. Timotheos continued to play his syrinx while he awaited the other boys. I had so gladly spent the night talking with him that I had forgotten to feed. It was too late now. The pinks and oranges of the night sky had given way to the blinding white of sunrise. I retreated deeper into the shade, reclined, and closed my eyes to sleep, but despite the inevitable birdsong, I could not. Why was I awake? Could it be because, after thirteen long years, I had found my brother's soul living his new life? Old Steppo, our god's highest priest, said my brother and I would not be apart long. The holy man in Canaan who was waiting for a son from his barren wife at the time of my visit said much the same. He taught me that promises can be kept.

Normally, the rising sun put me into a stupor. I began to think that something must be wrong and strained my senses toward Timotheos. He was no longer playing. At this distance I should not have heard his breath or his heartbeat, but our connection was such that I did. There was danger on the mountain! His sheep bleated in terror before I heard the growl and then the rush of his feet as Timotheos pelted toward the threat.

It didn't matter that the sun was overhead. Even as I ran, I heard the whistle of his sling as it flew, and the flutter when his stone hit and fell through the foliage of a meadow tree. I came upon them fast. The sun's glare was still in Timotheos' eyes. The lion was male, large and old if my senses could be trusted. Without a pride, he was looking for an easy meal. Its ears swiveled toward me, but he didn't turn. I might have been the wind.

The lion bounded toward Timotheos and crouched to spring, claws and fangs extended. The next I knew, my hands had closed on its shoulders and I was turning him away from my brother, wrestling him to the ground. Sunlight stabbed at my skin, slowing me, but I had power enough for this. The beast tried to drive his fangs into my neck. I moved, but not fast enough. His fangs punctured my right arm and bit down to the bone. I howled with the pain of it. Pulling back would rip my arm, possibly from its socket. I healed quickly, but I doubted I could grow another.

I tried unsuccessfully to get him off when something made him shift his hold. Another missile whistled and struck the lion's cheek. He whined but stubbornly refused to forfeit my arm. I turned to see Timotheos set another stone into his sling. The next missile hit his flank. He ignored it and gnawed at my arm while his claws dug into my legs. With weakened fingers I seized his lower jaw and held it tight. I pressed back on his upper with my uninjured left hand, trying to force them sufficiently apart to retrieve my arm. I recalling fighting a wolf just days after my change, but then I had others of my kind behind me to keep his pack at bay. I should be stronger now, but the sun and my blood loss enervated me. I continued to stretch his jaws, keeping him between me and the sun. He grunted and fought to escape, his yellow eyes angry, hurting and confused. At last, I pulled free and rolled to my feet.

The lion backed up and paced, barely moving his hind legs as he tried to confront both of us at once. I was not his normal prey, and though I looked human, I was not. Defeat must be an unusual experience for him. He had wandered from his usual feeding grounds. Had he been here before, there would have been more boys on guard. I fell back to the shadow of a tree. Taking my movement for retreat, he advanced again on Timotheos, growling low. My brother should have run while I distracted the beast, but I saw not that he would not desert me.

The lion crouched to make his charge when I rushed forward and leaped onto his back to steer him away from Timotheos. He twisted and snapped, but I tightened my legs around his ribs. The lion attempted to buck and roll me off, but I held on, pressing until he crumbled to his side. "Run, Timotheos!" I screamed. "Get away!"

The boy scampered up the tree. Once he was safe, I slid off, and roared my triumph, keeping the lion in sight. He took deep heaving breaths and panted for a while. Then, he grunted as if disgusted with his morning - all that effort and no meal. I nearly chuckled. He gave me a last angry glare, took a last look at Timotheos in the tree, sneezed and trotted off to look for easier prey.

Timotheos climbed down and ran to me. My hide tunic and pants protected my skin from the sun somewhat and my beard protected the lower part of my face, but my cheeks, eyes and nose felt like they were on fire. He pushed aside my long hair. "Your skin is hot, and your poor arm is so torn, I can see the bone and the flesh."

I needed blood to heal, but first I had to get out of the light. I shaded my eyes and tried to get my bearings. "The sun," I said, weakly. "It hurts." He wore a worked goat leather cloak with a hood to protect him from rain and the cold of night. The hood folded twice above his eyes to flatten it so he could see even in a storm. The morning air would feel cold to him, but he pulled off his cloak and flung it over me. The hood helped my swollen eyes greatly. Even injured, I could move faster than Timotheos, but he trotted beside me as I strode toward my shelter. "Your sheep will wander off," I murmured, worrying that he would get in trouble for attending me.

"The other boys will find them, but they'll see lion tracks, and blood on the grass. They will think the lion dragged me away. They may have sent word to my family that I'm dead." He squinted into the distance.

"Go and show them you're alive. I will manage."

"No. You saved me; I won't abandon you. Where are we going?" My brother wouldn't have left me alone in distress either. Rather than draw burning sunlit air into my lungs to speak, I pointed my chin. I had left my pack, mantle, and walking staff in my shelter when I set out. We bent low and entered at last into the blessed darkness. I spread out my mantle and lowered myself gingerly onto it.

Timotheos crouched at my side. "Your arm, Radu; should I bind it for you?" He reached for his cloak, ready to tear it into strips to do so.

"No. Out of the sun, I will heal. If only I had blood. I should have hunted," I murmured mostly to myself. My weakness was tampering with my usual caution and I was speaking stupidly.

The boy's green eyes grew solemn as he thought over what I had said. "You are a god like Ares, aren't you?"

I would not lie to Timotheos. "Some would say I am." That explained why he was less afraid of me than he might have been. "Have you fed Ares?"

He shook his head. "He has priests to do that. Besides, he doesn't take boys." It was good to know Ares had adopted my sire's teachings.

"Sleep will help me. After dark, if you can spare me a lamb or a kid, its blood will complete my healing. You can say the lion took it but you saved the others. Go now, before I give into my nature. I did not save you to harm you."

He looked at me intently. "You were stronger than the lion. Helping me cost you. Let me at least wash you clean you before I go." He dampened his cloak with water from his flask and leaned over me to wash my wounds.

The smell of his blood was sapping resistance. I prayed to All Mother for strength when, as he worked, Timotheos' neck grazed my lips. "Stop," I demanded. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know." His movement had not been accidental. "I have my own Heracles and his name is Radu. All you have is me and we are friends now."

He was right that I did not want to hurt him, but Timotheos had more confidence in my skill than I had. It was too dim for him to notice my eyes begin to glow, showing me his veins and arteries as streams of nourishment. "I will," I said, declaring my decision. He must have seen Ares feed for he moved closer and tilted his head. "No. Not like that. I'm too hungry to be careful, and I dare not risk you." He did not ask why a shepherd boy would be so important to me.

"Tell me what to do so you can be careful."

There was just enough room above my head to sit up. "Lean into my shoulder. Give me your wrist." He must have many questions. It would take time to answer them all and I did not have the time. I was near fainting with need. Only love for my brother's soul could restrain me from tearing into his throat. My feeding must not harm him. Nor must he become frightened. If he acted the part of prey, I would become the predator. "My face will change. Do not watch."

I lifted his wrist to my lips and held it steady while my face paled, my eyes grew white, and my fangs descended. I had just felt a lion's fangs in my arm, but other, older memories returned. Children of our kingdom were trained to feed our protective gods as an act of worship. Becoming a god was decided for me before I was born. The lion's teeth had been dull; mine were razor-sharp. I chose my spot and bit.

He shuddered and drew in a swift breath between clenched teeth, but made no other move. I had never tasted my brother's blood. Once I had changed, he was gone. The night of the day we died, I buried Sammik on our home mountain, sleeping in his grave with him from sunrise until twilight of the next night. We had known each other from our mother's womb. Death had parted us but now, our souls were together again. We might have been two drops of water nestled together in a cloud, separated as we fell to the sea. In the sea of a million drops of rain, we had found each other.

In my mind, I saw Sammik as a ghost of his former self when he, too, was twelve. My brother was proud, trained in kingship. Timotheos ruled sheep, but in both lives, he demonstrated responsibility and loyalty. My brother and I had warm brown eyes and curly brown hair that we wore loose past our shoulders. Timotheos' longer hair was nearly black and tied back. His eyes were green as the lapis I had seen in Khem. Sammik was Timotheos now, but his soul and his love for music remained.

His eyes moved behind his closed lids, seeing what I saw but without understanding. His generous nature filled my cold and silent heart with the love and the life I missed these thirteen years. His hot blood spread through me, healing me from the inside - repairing bone, knitting flesh and growing new skin.

I stopped drinking and lifted my head. With the infusion of life, my fangs retracted to normal seeming canines, brown colored my irises once more and my ashen complexion grew ruddy. "Open your eyes." Pale daylight seeped into the cave. Timotheos waited for his eyes to adjust, and then looked at me in wonder. My arm was whole again and my new skin was smooth, neither burned nor broken.

He stroked my previously mangled arm. "You are healed."

"Yes," I whispered.

Rather than ask how, he said, "I saw two boys in my mind. They looked the same. Who are they?"

I had not meant to tell him yet, but being who he was, he was more perceptive than anyone else could have been. "The boys were twin brothers and princes from my country. The men they became died. When I can, I'll tell you more about them and explain why you saw them. Give me your arm again so I can clean your wound."

I licked away the last trickle, savoring the sweetness. A predator would know he was claimed by one who had defeated a lion. "Go home now. Show your friends you are alive before they worry your parents. Only you know my resting place. Do not tell the others where I sleep." I handed him my traveler's staff. "A sling can be helpful against a lone wolf, but it is not enough against a lion, especially with the sun in your eyes. Bring a spear next time." He bent his head. "It could have happened to anyone. It happened to me once, when I was your age, but I wasn't alone."

He lifted one dark brow. "Who was with you?"

"My god watched over me. He lived on a mountain top above the meadows like your gods." My limbs were becoming heavy and my words were slurring. "There is so much I want to tell you, but I must sleep. Stay safe, Timotheos. Bring my staff back tomorrow night."

"You are _my_ god," I thought I heard him say as I slipped into the oblivion my body demanded. I did not hear when he left the cave.

14


	3. Chapter 3

27

Coming Home/Spinka

Chapter 3

As day gave way to night, I awakened. I would have thought I imagined running in the sun and fighting a lion to preserve my brother, but I recalled the lion's hungry breath in my nostrils as he worried at my arm. I had found Sammik in his new life and he had saved me. Thanks to him, my burns and injuries were no more than a memory. I looked toward the crack in the cave's opening to assure myself that the sun was gone before I crawled outside.

My familiar pink-seeming sky awaited me with its clusters of brightly colored stars. To my vision, the drifting clouds ranged from deep purple to startling blue. Flashes of rose pink and pale green lit them briefly from within to the rumble and crackle as of falling stones. The smell of rain on the air was being replaced by a steady, clearing wind from the northeast that chased the clouds from the mountain toward the sea. With sky and earth refreshed, the quarter moon, orange and seeming three times the size and brightness as when I was human, came into view. It cast a glow over the land.

I was grateful to Timotheos for his sacrifice, but I would not impose upon him again soon. He had been grateful to me yesterday, but he must not worship me as my own people did, or put himself in jeopardy again. After the vengeance I had taken on my enemies and before my revelation in the east, I was as likely to kill as to save. I would rather meet my true death than harm him.

Like other predators, my hearing had become acute and my sense of smell was attuned to my surroundings. The new night awakened my hunger. I smelled fear not far from my retreat, but there was no roving lion tonight; there was only me. My staff leaned against the wall outside the crack of my cave, and a goat was tied to a nearby tree. Only Timotheos knew of my lair. He had returned the staff and left me breakfast.

The goat saw me and strained at the rope, bleating in terror at my approach. "Shh," I told it and paused to send it calming thoughts. "Everything is born to die. Do not resist." My victim looked up at me, defeat in its posture. It had surrendered to its fate. I covered the goat's eyes with one hand and with the other, stroked and scratched its bony skull. It leaned into my hand and waited calmly for the killing bite.

When I was done, I poured the remainder of the blood upon the earth. All Mother, the Spirit of Earth, required blood sacrifice too. I learned from the old man of Canaan that All Mother, whom my people worshipped as our Creator and the Giver of Generations, is the same as his Almighty. I had journeyed over distant seas and into strange kingdoms to come to terms with my life. My revelation came by way of a being the old man called an angel. My sire's soul, he whom I once worshiped, lived within it, for it was with his face that I saw it.

I walked through on the forested slopes of Olympus, having left the goat's entrails for the birds and jackals that follow larger predators. Covered with blood, I could not fail to inspire terror to any human who saw me. At a swift moving stream, I skinned the goat and washed it and myself. Although I could no longer eat, the goat's flesh would strengthen the shepherds.

I heard Timotheos in the distance talking with other youths before they saw me, and found a sheltered spot out of the wind to build a fire. The goat flesh cooked long enough for the wind to carry its scent. They came into view following it. The glow of my fire attracted the boys' attention, but seeing me, they feared to come closer. I wondered what Timotheos had told them.

"There he is." Timotheos pointed me out. "There's the god Radu. He is a demigod like Heracles. He fought off the lion and saved me and the herd. He jumped right on it and rode it until it gave up and left. You should have seen him!"

"If he's a god, why is he cooking?" asked a boy. "Gods eat ambrosia and drink nectar." I did not know the meaning of those words.

"He's foreign. I don't know what their gods do. Why don't you ask him?" The other boy backed off. Timotheos looked to me and I beckoned them closer.

Their mouths watered, as once mine would have, at the smell of roasting meat. "Here is a treat for all of you and a goatskin for Timotheos's mother. Eat." I backed away from the fire to let them at it. They spoke their thanks and ran to pull the carcass off the flame. With a look to me, they stood back for Timotheos to take the first portion. He carved off a piece for himself with his flint knife and let the next boy in line cut off a share. Rustic as these youths were, they understood that Timotheos had first rights to what I provided. The boys washed down their meal with water from their flasks, and washed their hands and faces.

Timotheos came to sit beside me and took my arm possessively. At his touch, our souls blended as they always had. He felt it too although he did not understand it. Succoring me was second nature to him, just as protecting him was to me. "I told them you're a god even though you are foreign," he said. "Heracles killed a lion and wore its hide as his mantle. You could have done that so no one would doubt your godhood."

"No one doubts it at home and I am going there," I said.

He leaned closer as if my nearness meant as much to him as it did to me. He was thinking we would soon be separated and he would miss me. He lifted his arm to show me the scars I had left him. It was dark away from the fire. "Can you see it, Radu?"

"I can."

"I'm glad. It will remind me of you." As I could think of nothing to say, I looked up to the heights of the majestic mountain. My gaze was arrested by a glow of gold as might come from a small fire. Had lightning begun a blaze which seemed small from here? There were no trees to burn so high, only low shrubs and lichen upon the stones.

Timotheos tilted his head back and saw it too. "Zeus himself must have started it, with his lightning. We mortals dare not go higher."

"I dare," I said, and rose to my feet. When Ares and I passed this way before, he made up his mind to meet the gods of the place. He had invited me to explore the heights of Olympus with him, but I refused, fearing Apollo above all other gods. I could not explain why I wanted to go now, but I did.

The other boys looked too, alarmed at what a fire might mean. "Is it spreading? Will it come this way, do you think?" they asked, and licked their thumbs to determine which way the wind blew.

"See that my cook fire is cold before you return to your sheep. I will see this thing on the mountain," I said and began to climb. I could have jumped the distance in several leaps but most of the night remained. I ascended cautiously, my eyes mostly on the golden glow. As I climbed, I thought about my grandsire. He was my sire's maker. All I knew of him is that he died in fire. There had been a drought and he had sacrificed himself to a lightning-begun forest fire to protect our people.

Our kind was created by All Mother to protect mortals. Dying was a part of the process, but my grandsire met his true death when he gave himself to the fire. My brother and I had been killed in war. I returned as a protector and a moon god according to our teachings. When the time came for my true death, I hoped it would not be by fire.

As I approached the glow, I heard voices that could not be human. The glow separated into strands of a golden net. Two people sat within it. I moved closer to see them. Shapes moved through the shadows around the net, but I did not look at them. My attention had been caught completely by the couple. No garment of any sort covered their nakedness. The woman sat in front of the man enclosed by his knees. His face and cheeks nearly matched his red beard.

It was my Uncle Ares. The woman murmured soothing words in his ear. She was more exposed than he, being in front, but her legs were bent. One foot was angled partially behind her and the other covered most of her sex. I felt myself responding, as if I could climb into the confines of the net. I had seen and cohabited with women of allure and beauty, but this woman's appeal was beyond description.

I forced myself to raise my eyes and assess her in total. Her hair was like spun gold and her eyes were the blue of the River Ister on a cloudless day. Her breasts were more than perfect. Her posture bespoke a vulnerability which I found quite arousing, but her smile was that of a woman in charge even in so compromising a position. She might be trapped in a mystical golden net, but she was more powerful than those who judged her. No male could resist her and she knew it. Even the females might take her part and side with her against any unkind judgment.

The other figures approached me slowly, curiously, but they continued their conversations. I looked at them. Three of the men had similar features, tall and broad- shouldered with blond beards and curls. Their clothing was of some filmy material I could barely make out. One's hair was wreathed with seaweed. He smelled of the salt sea. Despite his blond hair, another had darkness about him, as if he were not of the heights of the earth but its depths. Flashes of light moved through the third's hair and beard like lightning. A crown of clouds circled his brow. The stately woman with a rainbow crown stood beside him.

One figure held the rope that controlled the net. If strong and godly creatures such as Ares and the woman could not escape it, the net was imbued with power beyond my understanding. It came to me that these creatures were timeless, and what seemed like a man of forty could be many times that age. If the stories told of them were true, they could take other forms. Human is how they chose to appear to each other.

A younger-seeming man and woman stood together regarding me. They were pleasant-looking, but not as beautiful as the woman in the net. I sensed they were twins, as I was, although I had never seen twins of opposite genders. The female wore a small circlet of silver over her brow with the shape of a crescent moon in the center of her forehead. The man seemed to glow faintly. The emblem in his circlet was round and golden. "Are you gods?" I asked, looking from him to the others.

"What did you think we were, up here where only gods may come?" the queenly woman asked.

Before I formed my response, I noticed two more women, each with an emblem, one the color of bronze with the symbol of an owl. The other's was of reddish gold, in the shape of a hearth fire. The owl goddess if that is what she was, had the greyest eyes I had ever seen. There was another god who seemed about sixteen. He sat on a boulder above the rest of us and looked down at the trapped couple and then toward me as if we amused him.

"I suppose you must be gods, but I have not been in your land for long and have not seen your kind until now," I admitted. "I'm Radu of Hyperborea."

"I am Zeus, king of the sky gods."

"Are you a god?" the queenly woman asked. I hesitated, unsure of how to reply. To my people, I was, but did I dare to claim godhood?

"Answer my wife's question. Are you a god? If not, you are forbidden here."

A voice I had not heard in years saved me the trouble of replying. "Radu? Is that you? Come closer so I can see you."

I walked to the glowing net and gave Ares a short bow. "It is good to see you again, Uncle, although I would have enjoyed our reunion more if you were free. On the other hand, you do seem happy." There was the titter of laughter. Ares had the grace to look momentarily modest.

"So the foreigner is a god after all," said the goddess of the silver moon. "As such, he is entitled to visit us."

They returned to their discussion and the case before them. "I'm Hestia, goddess of hearth and home," said the one with the hearth fire symbol. "We have assembled to judge a god who has no respect for marriage."

The goddess in the net wrinkled her perfect nose. "I am Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and desire. Hera, our queen, is the goddess of marriage. These others are proud to be untouched by males – as if their rejection of pleasure was virtuous. You, Artemis, you Athena, and even you, Hestia, who champion the benefits of home and hearth, reject desire. Demeter, you are more concerned with grain and fruit then with the joy males can provide. Without desire, there would be no children."

She looked to all of them. "Since he pleased me at my request, you should not be judging Ares at all. Zeus understands the longing for pleasure. He cannot keep himself contained at the sight of a pretty mortal. Ask Hera." The din of chatter and accusations broke out again, but dimmed when Aphrodite continued. "Our king sets the example. Why shouldn't a woman indulge herself just as happily, and with whom she pleases?"

"_You are my wife_," bellowed the god with the rope. "I am Hephaestus," he said for my benefit. "It is I who caught her in my golden net for betraying me with Ares whom we have allowed to live on our mountain although he is a Thracian."

"I'm the oldest of all of us," said Aphrodite. "I was born of the sea foam. For the sake of the foreign god Radu, I will explain. When Cronus the Titan killed Uranus of Heaven, he heaved the sky's man-parts into the sea. His seed became the foam, and here I am, the aunt of these who presume to judge me." She smiled sweetly to Hephaestus. "You know I loved you first and best, Husband, but Ares is new and different. Does Zeus have the right to judge others for infidelity?" Lightning crackled around Zeus again as his anger rekindled.

"What you say about my husband is true," said Hera. "We should leave it to Hephaestus to judge his own wife."

"We should admit to the truth," said the youngest god and added with a mischievous smirk, "Each god here would trade being humiliated for an invitation to lie between those thighs, myself included." Except for Hephaestus, they laughed. Even Ares laughed. Aphrodite who shielded him from further exposure planted a kiss on his cheek and smiled. "Let us out, dear Hephaestus. What good am I to you or anyone locked in your net like this?"

"Foreigner Radu, what do you say?" asked the offended husband.

I did not wish to anger these powerful beings. All I hoped for was Ares' freedom. "I do not think marriage is for immortals," I said truthfully. "I was faithful to my wife all my life. When I died and became a 'god', for that is how gods are made in my country, I needed more than one mortal to satisfy my needs. My wife did not object when I took others. All I ask is for you to let my uncle go."

Zeus put two fingers to his lips. "What will you give me if I order Hephaestus to release her?"

Why I should have to give him anything was beyond me. Everyone looked to me, especially the two in the net and Hephaestus. "I have nothing to give," I said. "I was passing through your country on my way home. Nothing here belongs to me." There was a sudden commotion from lower on the mountain. The young god rose into the air to discover the cause of it. I wondered how he did that.

"The shepherds are climbing up," he said.

"How dare they?" asked Zeus, glowering like a thundercloud again. "Hermes. Go and fetch their leader. I would have a word with him." Hermes swooped away and soon returned with Timotheos whom he set down between us. As soon as he saw me safe and unharmed, Timotheos ran to me. I tried to shelter him with my arm.

"I worried for you," he said.

I expected Zeus to attempt to strike him. Instead, the god's features softened into an indulgent smile. "What a pretty boy!" he murmured. "Ganymede grew up so I brought him back to his hillside in Troy. I think I can find a use for this one."

I expected Hera to object, but she did not. "At least he's not another woman," she said. Timotheos trembled under my arm.

"You can't have him," I said simply. "He's mine."

"Ah," said Ares from the golden net. "My nephew grew a spine. Not only does he climb the mountain; he defies the king of the gods."

Zeus lowered his forehead. "You just said nothing here belongs to you. If I want the boy, I will have him. Will you contend _me_, Hyperborean?" Clouds drew in and I felt the electricity in them. My hair stood on end. I held Timotheos closer to me. If Zeus wanted to kill both of us, we would die together. It would not be the first time.

I could not quite describe it as sudden, but a breeze blew up. It was gentle at first, but increased, scattering the clouds that were closing in on the mountain. The gods looked up, as did we, at the sky which was clear once more. Only the moon and stars hovered above us. When we looked back to earth, a new figure stood there, radiant in a way that I had not seen anyone before. All that came before seemed inconsequential. Everyone centered on the newcomer. Her features were indistinct and I did not recognize her, but it seemed the others did. They fell to their knees. I pulled Timotheos down.

"Gaea," said Zeus. "You seldom visit us. To what do we owe this honor?"

Gaea looked over the assembled gods. Her attention settled on the golden net. Hephaestus still held the rope that sealed it. "Aphrodite, my daughter," she said. Her tone was disapproving and Aphrodite cowered. "You bragged that desire creates children. How many children do you have?"

The golden goddess lowered her eyes. "You know I have none yet, Mother of All. That is a boon only you can grant." Now I knew who faced us and I thrilled to be in her presence.

"Desire between men and women is good," said Gaea turning to a different goddess. "But, without fertility, there can be no children and no grain either. Demeter, you showed mortals how to plant, but you know who makes seeds grow. Neither you nor Aphrodite can create new life without me. As for you, Zeus, you have had enough of fathering children and enough mates; although I'm sure you want more." The king of the gods trembled. "You will have them, but you will not take this boy. He belongs to Radu. I promised him he would be reunited with his brother."

"Brother?" Timotheos started to lift his head.

"Shh," I whispered. "Later."

"Hephaestus, release your wife and Ares." The god pulled on the rope, opening the net to grant Aphrodite and Ares their freedom. They stepped out of its folds and knelt. "Rise, all of you." Her orders were followed. "You Olympians had your genesis on another world. Earth is mine. Remember that you dwell on it at my pleasure. Displease me and you can take your golden ships elsewhere. Ares and Radu belong to me. Ares, I wish for you to leave for a while so Hephaestus can reunite with his wife in harmony and so she can give birth to her son in peace."

Aphrodite's hands flew to her belly and she smiled her gratitude. Only the Goddess can make the infertile fertile. Somehow, Ares was going to become a father and Aphrodite a mother. I don't know if Achaean gods needed air, but there was a collective gasp.

"Apollo, it will soon be time for your sun to rise."

"Yes, Gaea," said the glowing god beside me.

I looked to him and stepped back. "Apollo?"

He smiled brightly. "Yes, Radu. It is night. Wait until morning."

"You will not harm Radu," said Gaea. Apollo bowed.

She was All Mother to me, worshipped as long as mortals dwelt in our mountains, but I knew now that there was only the One who came before earth gods like me or sky gods like the Olympians. I heard Her voice in my head. _I took form because these gods would not understand me otherwise. All life belongs to me. I can appear as I wish, when I wish. _I acknowledged her words silently. She needed no form for me to understand that she was the Giver of Life and Caretaker of Souls.

She spoke aloud to the others. "Ares, three generations must pass before you come this way again. As for you, Radu, your journey is near its end. Your wife and children are waiting for you. When night comes again, go to Timotheos' parents and tell them you are taking him and that I granted you permission. They will want to say goodbye. You will not see me often, but I shall continue to watch over you as I promised on the day you died." Timotheos touched my arm and our combined soul flared high and glorious. I felt her love all around us, even as she faded from our sight and into the night.

The End


End file.
